


We're not lovers, we're just strangers with the same damn hunger to feel anything at all

by surena_13



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Choose Your Pain, Episode 1x5, F/M, episode add-on, it's lorca not as if that can be avoided, obvious mental issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 08:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12553420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surena_13/pseuds/surena_13
Summary: While Gabriel and Katrina are in bed, he can't stop thinking. And his thoughts tend to spiral to the darker side.





	We're not lovers, we're just strangers with the same damn hunger to feel anything at all

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: not my characters, I'm just playing with them  
> A/N: I fell head over heels in love with Lorca's character and this me trying to write him. He's so messed up, but so interesting. I'm so glad he exists to get me back into my writing mode.

He tries to lose himself in her. He wants it to be just the two of them, not a care in the world. He wants it to be like it used to be, what now seems like ages ago, laughing, happy, when they were still wide-eyes explorers who had joined Starfleet to broaden their horizons and see the galaxy. He would give almost anything for it to be like that again.

 

But it isn’t.

 

It’s different and he prays to whatever deity that’s willing to listen that he’s the only one who notices. He just needs time. When the war is won, he’ll be fine again. He won’t brush off Katrina’s attempts to dissect his psyche in a desperate move to keep what is buried underneath a thick armor hidden, but he’ll do it because that has always been their game. She’s always been fascinated by what makes him tick and he always held her off. Lately it has just become more about his own preservation rather than a play.

 

He’s not the kind of man to keep his face hidden. He fights his battles looking his enemy in the eye, but tonight, he looks away, knowing this a battle he’ll lose. Katrina will see right through him if she can look in his eyes when he’s at his most vulnerable. So he hides, like a coward, like he isn’t the man whose praises are sung by Starfleet command, despite all the rules he has bent, broken and shaped to his liking.

 

He licks her neck when undressing her, kisses her hard when she undresses him, closes his eyes when he places her legs on his shoulders and uses her mouth until Kat is trembling, falling apart, whimpering a soft ‘Gabriel’ when she comes, buries his face in her neck when he slides into her. Anything to avoid her eyes.

 

Surrounding himself with darkness is what he has become good at anyway.

 

The irony of his situation is not lost him. It was an all-blinding light that he used to save his crew from an unspeakable darkness, and now he can’t stand the light anymore. L’Rell had been right. A cosmos full of agonizing light, too much for him to handle, yet he bears the pain. He needs it. The constant burn, the hole it has left, he needs it so much, he’s terrified of what will happen if it ever disappears.

 

Not even Katrina, who has always been there for him, even when she shouldn’t, when he didn’t deserve it, the first face he saw after the Buran, can make him feel whole again. No matter how welcoming, familiar, how safe her embrace feels. He can’t get the thought out of his head that this is a battle, a fight he cannot afford to lose. She isn’t the enemy, he knows that, but still.

 

She’s just the person who can wound him the deepest.  

 

It makes him miss their academy days even more. No obligations, no war, no hidden agendas. They had just been really good friends who occasionally had sex, having no desire to have any sort of romantic relationship. It had all been so simple, so easy. And he tries so hard to get that feeling back, tries to shut off his mind, but he still has reminders that keep him in the harsh present.

 

He can taste the liquor on her lips, feel her moans travel down his spine and it still isn’t enough. With his fingers he draws another orgasm from her, her nails digging into his back, as if his survival depends on her. As if he can fuck her doubt about him away. As if by making her come, he can distract her enough so, that for one moment, he can let down his guard without her noticing everything he keeps hidden.

 

And for one moment, he makes himself believe that he can and he allows himself to let go, groaning as he empties himself inside her. He can feel Katrina’s eyes on him, her hands on his ass, holding him close to her, and for one second, just for one single second he looks at her.

 

In her eyes he can see something that makes him snap his eyes shut. Beneath the lust-induced haze lies something he perceives as dangerous, an analytical gaze laced with concern, a realization that he has changed. There’s a hint of loss and regret. And he hates himself for letting her in. He was weak and now it might cost him.

 

Closing his eyes, he moves off her, falling back on his bed. He feels heavy, tired, drained. The constant fighting, even when there are no Klingons in sight, it’s exhausting. He just wants to lie down and not get up for about a week, but he can’t. He has to go on, win battles and win the war. He has to, because he’s the only captain who can, the only one willing to do what it takes, no matter the personal sacrifices.

 

He tenses when he suddenly feels a hand on his chest. It’s only Kat, he knows this, but sometimes he catches himself being more on edge than is necessary. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her closer, needing her to anchor him to reality. She curls around him, her hair soft on his shoulder. He hopes that whatever he saw in her eyes, it was just his paranoia. Maybe he was just projecting his fear onto her, maybe she was just being nostalgic.

 

As his heartrate slows, he feels himself being dragged into a restless sleep. He shouldn’t, but he is just so tired. Maybe a little bit rest will stop his thoughts from racing through his head at warp speed, maybe he’ll be able to speak with Kat without feeling the need to be so defensive and deflective. Maybe with her here, he won’t dream about blinding, searing pain and Klingon blades cutting into his skin.

 

Maybe it will all be alright.


End file.
